Help Me
by MrSpockify
Summary: After finding out that Castiel can't ride a bike, Dean sets out to teach him. Fluff, basically. Destiel if you squint.


**Notes: **This was inspired when Castiel stated that he didn't know how to ride a bike in season 7. This is also my first Supernatural fic, so feedback would be nice if at all possible. Thanks for reading! :)

I don't own any of the hunters or angels portrayed in this fic. Unfortunately.

* * *

"Just swing your leg over the side, Cas," Dean instructed, motioning with his hands. He must've demonstrated five times by now, but the angel was still hesitant. Castiel just bent his knee a little, lifting his foot a few inches off the ground, before setting it back down and sighing minutely. Dean had half a mind to pick him up like a child and set him on the seat. That, along with yelling _Get on the damn bike! _probably wouldn't have been the best of options for convincing his friend to learn how to ride a bicycle. Instead, he walked to the other side of the bike and patted the seat. "Come on," he urged, trying not to use an aggressive tone.

Castiel set his mouth in a firm line and gripped the handlebars tightly. There was a momentary pause as his whole body stiffened, and he twisted his hips to get good leverage when he kicked his leg over. He tensed and bent his knee, moving his foot up a little higher, almost over the seat… _Almost_…

Dean couldn't hide a sigh when the angel backed out again, setting his foot back on the pavement. He turned away, rubbing his face and groaning. They had been out here for almost an hour, and Castiel hadn't even gotten on the bike. When he turned back around, Castiel was staring at him with big, guilty eyes, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

"Don't look like that," he said, stepping towards the bike again. He straightened it back up and cleared his throat. "Ok, so you just need to kick your leg a little higher. Once you're on the bike—"

"Dean?"

"—then it's all downhill from there. Getting on is the easy part. Then, you're going to—"

"Dean."

"What?" Dean looked up from the bike to see Castiel backing away, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Cas. It's… It's easy." He laid the bike down carefully on the sidewalk, moving to catch up with Castiel.

"Why are you doing this?" The angel stopped and tilted his head. Dean shrugged and struggled for an answer, not sure what to say.

"I don't know," he muttered, wanting to get back to the bike.

"We've been at it for an hour, Dean. I'm not going to be able to do this. Let's just go inside," he offered, turning to walk to their motel room. Dean caught him by the arm and pulled him back, forcing him to make eye contact.

"We _have_ been at it for an hour, so let's not make it a wasted one. I know you can do this. Cas, little kids can do this. You are a freaking angel." He held out his arms as if in indication. It was a wonder to him how such a powerful, godly man couldn't summon up enough courage to get on a bicycle and pedal. "Everyone should know how to ride a bike; it's a simple pleasure."

Castiel was quiet as Dean tugged him towards the bike. He watched him set up the bike, prepping it and explaining what to do again. "Why do you care so much?" he interrupted, honestly curious.

"Because," Dean murmured, not looking up from the pedals, "I had to teach myself." When he did look back up, Castiel simply nodded and grabbed the handlebars, understanding now. No one had taught him how to ride a bike, ever. Dean could relate. The least he could do was right someone else's wrong.

"On three," Dean instructed, bracing himself. Castiel took a deep breath. "One…" He squeezed the bars tightly. "Two…" He bent his knees. "Three!" Castiel hefted one leg over the seat. It wasn't graceful, and his shoe grazed Dean's leg slightly, but he was on the seat. He looked over to see if he did alright, and apparently he did. Dean looked elated; he smiled in relief and clapped his hands together. "Perfect," he sighed.

"That was hardly perfect," Castiel corrected, reliving the moment in his mind. He definitely didn't have the same form as Dean had when he had demonstrated.

"Trust me, it was fine," he laughed and held the bike upright with some difficulty. "Okay, now put your right foot on this pedal," he moved Castiel's foot for him, then moved to the other side of the bike and did the same to the left. Without any control over the balance of the bike, Castiel's eyes grew wide and he held on for dear life.

"I am going to fall," he announced calmly, though his face revealed he was all but calm.

"You are not going to fall," Dean said, holding the bike sturdy. "Just start pedaling, slowly at first. Then we'll build up speed." Castiel did as he was told, his heart pounding heavily in his ears. When he glanced over his shoulder, Dean was staring ahead, a delighted smile growing on his face. This gave him some sort of renewed courage, and he looked back forward, pedaling a little faster. As they continued on, his balance grew more solid, until finally he was riding with a gentle breeze running through his hair. It was pleasant, surprisingly, and he let a small smile play at the edge of his lips.

Dean let go of the bike discreetly, like people always did in movies. Just like he planned, Castiel kept going, riding just fine on his own. Dean sighed contentedly and watched, a strange pride growing in his chest. Suddenly Castiel glanced over his shoulder again, startling when there was no one there. He turned his head sharply, a look of bewilderment coming over his features when he saw that Dean was much farther behind than him. The last thing he saw was betrayal in his blue eyes before the angel lost control of the bike, the handlebars zigzagging wildly back and forth and then the tire turning abruptly, sending Castiel tumbling forward, onto the street. Dean took off toward the scene.

"Cas!" he called, hoping he wasn't going to react like the kids always did in movies. He wasn't quite sure how he would handle a crying angel with a scraped knee. "Cas, are you okay?" He kneeled down beside him, helping him stand back up. Castiel turned, and, much to Dean's surprise, looked perfectly calm. He brushed himself off, inspecting his palm, which was sufficiently covered in road rash.

"That was…" he looked into Dean's eyes, "invigorating." Dean was quiet a moment before busting out laughing, shaking his head slightly. Castiel watched him pick up the bike and followed him back toward the motel room.

"I'm glad you think so," he replied, still grinning from ear to ear. Castiel couldn't help but give a small smirk at how happy he was, though he wasn't sure why Dean was so amused. Really, it didn't matter. "Let's go get some pie," he offered up, nodding to himself at the idea. He parked the bike outside the room and turned back around, heading for the car. Castiel followed obediently.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"No problem."


End file.
